Phangirls of the Opera
by Shadowxwolf
Summary: Was a oneshot, but I got ideas, so now there's a story. Two phangirls have found their way to Erik's lair and what happens? Lifeswap! One of them becomes O.G. for a week, while Erik goes to school 10 planned chapters which will hopefully be hilarious!
1. The Prologue

Two friends sat in Erik's lair, which one of them had discovered that very morning. Louise, the one who found the cool and creepy place with its waterproof candles, gondola, organ and assorted piles of red roses, checked her watch.

'He has to come back sometime,' she assured Grace, who was lounging in Erik's totally cool eagle shaped bed, watching the weird little monkey thing.

'Maybe he's off chasing Christine again?' Grace suggested. 'Why are we here again?'

'To lie in wait and kidnap him,' Louise reminded her, checking out his totally cool sword. Louise had a thing for swords.

'Are we ransoming him?'

'Who to? Nobody would really care, which is a shame, because he is so misunderstood and hot. Christine went off with Raoul, remember?'

'She was such an idiot for doing that.' Louise agreed whole-heartedly.

'I mean, Grace, if you had the choice, which would it be? Ponce with really bad hair who has probably had a sex change, or totally hot, dark, mysterious guy who can not only sing but has a voice to make you melt?'

'Definitely the second choice,' Grace said, now looking at Erik's doodles of Christine. 'Hey!' she exclaimed suddenly, 'this one looks a bit like me!'

'Does not,' replied Louise, now playing on 300: Game of the Movie, which she had found stashed behind one of the Phantom's many mirrors.

'This is all your fault, you know,' Grace said suddenly.

'What is? why? I didn't do anything and there's no way you can prove it. No, left, left damn you! This PS2 doesn't work,' she grumbled. 'You'd think he'd be able to get a good one with 20,000 francs a month.'

'Yeah,' Grace sighed, then, realising she'd been expertly put off track by Louise's superb banter, turned almost angrily to her and said 'If you hadn't leant me the DVD, I wouldn't be here!'

'Yeah, but if Amy hadn't mentioned it on D of E, I wouldn't have leant you the DVD. So, technically,' Louise concluded smugly, 'it's all Amy's fault.' Grace couldn't deny the logic in that, so she looked once again to the entrance of the cave to see if Erik would magically appear.

'You know, despite being both obsessed, you have it far worse than me,' Louise commented, whooping as she reached level three. The PS2 worked after all.

'Ppfftt!' Grace scoffed.

'You have a picture of him on your ceiling above your bed!' Louise replied. Grace merely scowled. It was perfectly true.

'Yeah, well it was your idea to come here,' Grace retorted.

The two continued to jibe with each other while waiting for Erik to appear. Grace found some gunpowder, one of Erik's tricks, and nearly blew her head off. Suddenly there was a crash at the lair's entrance.

'Is he ever going to come?' Louise wondered absent-mindedly.

'Well, if he does,' her friend replied, 'he's mine.'

'No way!'

'We agreed, remember? I get Erik, and you get Dracula as played by Gerard Butler, so it's even.'

'Oh, ok then. So, who got Richard Armitage?'

'That was me.'

'Yeah, right. You got David Tenant!'

'Yeah, and in return, you got John Barrowman.'

'We agreed to leave him out of it because we'd have no chance with him.'

'Stuart Townsend then.'

'But I found him anyway, so that doesn't count,' Louise argued. 'So, technically, since I found Erik first, and Dracula, I should have them both.'

'Noooooooooooooooo!' Grace cried, launching herself onto Louise.

'What the hell is going on here!?' Erik cried in bewilderment. 'Who are you? What have you done to my precious lair?'

The two friends got up guiltily, looking round at all the damage their brawl had caused. Erik was itching for his hangman's noose.

'Uh-oh,' Louise whispered.


	2. The Challenge

Back by almost popular demand, and under a new title, graciously donated by O. G. himself.

Disclaimer: As much as it pains me to say, I do not own Erik, or any of Gaston Leroux's other characters, which is a shame. Neither do I own Grace, because she is a person in her own right.

Now that the legal stuff is out of the way, I think we can get on with the story!

* * *

The two phangirls, Louise and Grace, had finally managed to tell Erik that they weren't waiting in his lair to arrest him, or kill him, or whatever. It had been a close thing though; Grace had almost been strangled when Louise had the brains to ask Erik for his autograph. The Phantom blushed and mumbled that nobody had ever asked for his autograph before. Louise and Grace made pitying sounds while Grace rummaged among Erik's blue-patterned bone china to make him a cup tea. Erik liked coffee, but drank it anyway, because he was Erik, and Erik is always polite.

So, during a delicious elevenses consisting of hot beverages, iced buns and Hobknobs, Louise and Grace told O. G. all about themselves.

'We're meant to be in physics,' Grace explained, 'but it was so boring we decided to skip.'

'Yeah, and I decided we should come down here because you really do have great taste in decor, Erik,' Louise added.

'How do you know my name?' Erik asked, slightly unnerved. Ha! That's just how Christine feels, but Christine went with the F.O.P (fairly obvious prig) Raoul, so we offer her no sympathy.

'We're phangirls,' they replied simply, Louise sipping delicately at her pina colada. 'We know everything.' As Erik tried to digest this information, he once again looked around at his beautiful lair, which the phangirls had practically destroyed. He scowled, then wondered why the two teenagers in front of him went into fits of swooning. They were very strange, in his opinion.

'What time is it?' Grace asked.

'Half-past three.'

'Oh, we missed physics then.'

'and English, and that single of RE that should just die,' Louise finished with a grin. 'We might as well stay down here now. If it's ok with you Erik?' she said sweetly, leaving Grace to flutter her eyelids and look cute, because there was no way she could do it in a million years.

Erik considered. These phangirls weren't actually that bad. They whined less than Christine. They cheated on him less than Christine. They were prettier than Carlotta, and they hadn't tried to sing for him yet.

'Why not? But you have to clean up my lair before we go and see the opera tonight.'

'We're going to the opera?' Grace asked, her eyes shining. 'I've never been before.' Erik was shocked. How could anyone not have heard the delights of opera?

'Your parents must have been negligent,' he commented, thinking sadly of his own family. The phangirls swooned again when he pouted.

'Mine were,' Louise said, 'I've never seen an opera either.'

'Then we shall go. Although, I think you will need to change first.'

Louise and Grace looked at each other; they were still wearing the horribly uncomfortable green school uniform they had to wear.

So, they cleaned up while Erik went out to buy them dresses for the evening. When they had finished, they took turns playing 300 on O. G.'s PS2, and waited for him to come back to his lair. Eventually Louise got bored and went to fiddle with his organ. She played old MacDonald, because she couldn't play anything else.

Erik suddenly came in and bellowed

'Get off my organ!' Louise retracted her hands quickly and assumed the innocent look she had practised so often on teachers. Erik narrowed his eyes and the phangirls swooned yet again.

O.G. went off to get ready, and Grace and Louise did the same in another room. Neither of them had worn a corset before, so it took them ten minutes just to work out what they were. Louise first put hers on upside down, and gasped 'can't breathe' when Grace pulled on the laces. They admired themselves in the big mirror in the wall; amazed at how skinny they both were. The dresses came next, Louise's was dark green, Grace's was light blue; great swathes of rustling material that looked the same no matter which way they turned it.

They came out of the dressing room bemused and wondering if the dresses were on the right way, and bowed down with the weight of them.

'You know, I have a new respect for these women,' Louise grumbled, smoothing out the kinks.

Erik was surprised to see them ready already. He was still only in a poet shirt and tight trousers. By now, of course, he was getting very irritated by their swoons, because he had no idea why they were swooning. Oh, Erik, if only you knew!

He suggested that he should do their hair for them, and they agreed, because neither of them could do hair very well, and Erik might not notice their swooning so much if they were sitting down.

'What is this thing in your ear, Grace?' Erik asked through a hair pin clamped in his mouth.

'It's a hearing aid,' Grace said.

'Hearing aid? Are you deaf?'

'Yes.'

Erik nearly fainted. In the very tight space between his constant brooding and file for evil schemes, his thought process considered the horror of being born deaf. Without music, how could he live? Hw else could he seduce Christine?

Erik, you can do so much better than Christine.

Mme. Giry was waiting outside box five with a cane. She had just had to beat the F.O.P. with it and holler at him for the gazillionth time that it was Erik's box. When she saw the Phantom in question approaching with two young ladies on his arms, she could hardly believe it. Louise paused by the old-ish woman and asked her why she was the nly one in the movie who spoke with a French accent. Mme. Giry's reply to this was: 'What ze 'ell iz a movie?'

'Erik,' Louise whispered half way through the first act, 'I can't understand a word they're singing.'

'It's in Italian,' Erik whispered back.

'That might have something to do with it.'

The two phangirls, despite enjoying the stage production of Phantom, were bored by the third act. Grace fidgeted and Louise gazed into space, thinking about the Inuyasha fanfic she still had to write. An all the revising she should be doing.

'You know,' she said suddenly, 'I bet it's not that difficult to be the Phantom of the Opera.'

'It's harder than you think,' Erik replied.

'Not as hard as high school, though,' Louise said. 'All you have to do is look brooding and swish your cape about a bit.

'It's not that easy!' Erik exclaimed. The people in the next box heard him and shushed them furiously, but then they saw it was O.G., and ran away, screaming as quietly as they could so they didn't disturb the performance. 'Anyway, all you have to do is sit in front of a teacher and not look bored.'

And of course, in double physics that's not difficult at all, Louise thought, content to scowl at Erik.

'You know how to settle this?' Grace intervened.

'How?'

'Lifeswap!' she cried gleefully. Erik looked stumped. 'Easy,' Grace explained, 'Louise becomes the opera ghost for a week, and you become an exchange student from Paris who looks a bit too old to be at school and can speak very good English.'

It was like divine inspiration. Both Erik and Louise thought it was a good idea, and Grace told them to make a list of rules to follow during the week.

The authoress grinned to herself. This could be fun.

* * *

So that's chapter 2; more will be coming, and in the end there will probably be ten chapters overall.

Please review, constructive criticism is much appreciated, as is any congratualtions you wish to impart, hehe (you can tell Erik's helping me write this, can't you?)

Shadowxwolf


	3. The Rules

Despite the fact that I am supposed to be revising at this moment in time, I love you guys so much that I am going to update again. So, here we are, written in secret at night (candlelight, btw) so my parents wouldn't catch me, I give you chapter three!

* * *

There was so much to do. Neither Erik nor Louise was comfortable just letting the other have a free rein on the other's life, even if it was just for a week. True, Erik would have Grace to steer him right at school, but what about at home with the family? Louise shuddered just thinking of the damage the Opera Ghost could do. As for Erik, he was worried about his precious organ. He stroked it reassuringly, and crooned to it.

'Don't worry, my baby, I won't let her hurt you in any way.' Unfortunately for him, both Grace and Louise were standing about three feet away, watching him with weirded out expressions. At last they weren't swooning, Erik thought to himself.

So, Louise went first. Erik gave her a set of instructions, which went something like this:

Erik's Instructions – DO NOT LOSE!

Do not touch the organ or any of the Don Juan Triumphant music sheets unless it is to save them from fire, or any other calamity. The Don Juan Triumphant music sheets are to be saved as though your life depends on it – your life depends on it.

Gatecrash any parties the managers throw if they do not invite you. If they do happen to invite you, gatecrash the party anyway.

The half mask is not a toy. It is to be worn on the right side of the face, unless posing for DVD covers. Similarly, the Death mask is only to be worn on special occasions, such as gatecrashing parties

In relation to dress – always wear black with black leather gloves and a cape which you must swish when exiting a scene. Only take it off in the presence of Christine Daaé.

Whenever appearing in public, cause an accident and play dramatic organ chords (CD 3 Track 05) when they realise you're there.

Also concerning public appearances – no autographs. Always stay out of reach of the public, and pose somewhere half in shadow so people will be scared of you.

If Carlotta sings, swap her throat spray for the croaking potion (second shelf on the right), or, if in a bad mood, crash the chandelier.

Speak through walls when insulting people. It makes the bricks harder to aim.

If not paid the 20,000 francs by Friday, crash the chandelier, or, if in a very bad mood, burn down the theatre. Make sure the Don Juan Triumphant music sheets survive, or you won't.

If the F.O.P. tries to run away with Christine, the instructions for making a Punjab lasso are on the back of this paper. Use it well. If Miss Daaé is gone when I get back, you will be in big trouble.

'Jesus, Erik,' Louise said, looking at the set of rules, 'did you have to make so many death threats?' she handed it to Grace, who let out a low whistle. Erik merely scowled, causing Louise to swoon, and Grace to look bewildered, because she had still been reading Erik's rules.

'Do it again,' she said.

'What?' said Erik, totally perplexed by the request.

'Do what you did to make her swoon. I want to see it.'

'Why?' asked Erik slowly, thinking she was mad.

'I want to swoon too.' Erik rolled his eyes, which made Grace swoon anyway. Why had he agreed to do this again?

He decided to take Louise on a personal tour of the opera house, at which point Grace declared she wanted to be O.G. for the week. Louise and Erik quietly explained to her that Louise was both closer to the real O.G. in height, hair colour and insanity (Erik pouted at this remark, making both phangirls swoon again), and so was the better choice for the role. Well, Erik explained it, Louise just giggled quietly and reminded Grace five times in the space of two minutes that she was going on a private tour of the opera with Erik. By herself. Alone with him. For the entire tour. Without anyone else. Grace scowled and Erik wondered yet again what the hell was going on. Just go with the flow, he told himself, you can strangle them both later.

So, Louise went on the tour, to get a better idea of how to sneak up on people. Once, she accidentally activated a trap-door that Erik was standing on at the time. He scowled at her but she managed to overcome a swooning fit and help him up. When he showed her the F.O.P. (A/N: refer to previous chapter to see what this stands for), she was all for dropping a large scene on him, just to see how loud the splat would be, but Erik restrained her for some mysterious and unexplainable reason.

Then, it was Erik's turn. Louise took him home, informing her parents that he was an exchange student from France that she had forgotten to tell them about. Strangely, they weren't too fussed. But we won't question it, because it helps the story along a bit. The phangirls also had a list of rules, which went something like this:

Louise's Rules for Erik – IGNORE THEM AT YOUR PERIL!

Do exactly what Grace tells you to do, no matter what it is. Scrap that. Do whatever she tells you to do within the realms of normal sanity. If she tells you to kill somebody, don't – unless it's Sabine. You can kill Sabine because she is a F.O.P.ette.

Do not go out with anybody. There are certain members of my school who will try and get you to date them. Including Grace. Do not surrender to begging, sweating, bleeding, blackmail, death threats, or fluttering of eyelashes.

When asked a question by a teacher, say: I am French, I do not understand the question. Then explain the answer with such high tech language that the teacher looks dumbfounded. This works especially well in physics.

If you weren't listening to the question, say something random in French. This works especially well in physics.

If there are any parties, do not gatecrash, and do not come in a totally hot Red Death costume, because girls will only try and date you. Especially Grace. Come as the Opera Ghost, and hang anyone who doesn't know precisely what that is, because they should know.

No killing anybody who doesn't deserve it. Grace will tell you if they deserve it.

In DT, do not make dioramas of the opera house, and do not fill them with Barbie dolls to represent Christine. If Barbie were alive, she wouldn't be able to stand up.

No doodling 'Erik 4 Christine', or 'I m your Angle of Music' on your planner. Girls will only ask questions about who Christine is, and Grace will be forced to kill them.

On the subject of planners, do not look in Grace's planner if you want to retain your sanity. She is slightly obsessive about some things. Neither should you look on her mobile phone, for the same reason.

School uniform is to be hated at all costs. It is compulsory, and you are not allowed to wear a swishy cape, or a mask. Say the mask is for a medical condition. Make something up for the name of the medical condition.

Grace will tell you everything else.

Louise then showed Erik how to use such modern inventions as msn, mobile phones, and the waffle-iron. Erik liked this last one very much, and made waffles for Grace and Louise, which they found totally cool and they had to refrain from swooning yet again.

During dinner, Louise tried once again to convince Grace she had the better end of the deal.

'Sure, I get to be O.G. for a week and terrorise the opera, but you get to be with Erik for a whole week!' Grace was warming up to the idea for some strange and inexplicable reason.

Louise also had some rules for Grace, though most of them involved commanding her not to go within five centimetres of Erik under threat of the Punjab lasso and being banished to the torture chamber. She didn't really think the threats would work, but Grace had been warned.

* * *

Ah, could have been worse. Candlelight seems to work for Erik fics, it's just so Phantom! So, yeah, please review, it gives me something to do (puppy eyes) pwease?

Shadowxwolf


	4. Day 1

School should be banned, it's kept me from updating and giving all you lovely people another chapter! But here it is, and I hope you will accpt my humblest apologies for it being late. Thanks to Grace (the inspiration for this story) who has been on at me for the past however long it is bribing, threatening, and pleading me to finish it. Erik helped as well, of course.

Disclaimer: I suppose I should do this, though I don't want to - Erik and any other of Gaston Leroux's characters belong solely to him and maybe ALW, which is a shame, because I would murder Raoul, make Christine come to her senses, and make Erik my personal slave. But that won't ever happen, so I'll stop dreaing now.

* * *

Louise yawned and stretched. And became wide awake. These were her sheets, they were too soft and luxurious; it wasn't her bed, too big and bird shaped. She froze as the realisation hit her. She had been sleeping in Erik's bed. Slowly, half dreading, half hoping, she turned her head to the side. The other half of the bed was empty. What if it hadn't been? Never mind that now, Louise thought sternly to herself, dismissing the image of Erik in a poet shirt and tight trousers (which were slowly being removed). And tried to get out of the ridiculously enormous bed. She managed. She fell out and lay for a few moments sprawled on the floor.

'Eww, cave dust,' she grumbled picking herself up and brushing the dirt off the nightie she was wearing. Wait. . .

Louise didn't recall owning a nightgown. Especially not one this frilly, or linen, or so big around the shoulders. She had word Erik's poet shirt to bed! This might turn out to be an interesting week.

She pranced over to Erik's rather large wardrobe, which looked big enough to contain both Narnia and Middle-Earth; and pulled open the ornate walnut doors. Inside were about a dozen suits, all black, with different waistcoats, black cravats, and more of those sexy poet shirts. Surely he wouldn't miss just one? And Grace would want one of course. Unless she didn't tell Grace she had one . . . hmm, decisions, decisions. Save it for later. Right now, Louise had to figure out how to put on Victorian male dress-wear, which wasn't as easy as it sounded. It took ages before she could get her hand out of the knot she had made with the cravat. She just hoped Erik wouldn't notice the tooth marks she had made accidentally on the black silk.

The phangirl studied herself in one of Erik's many covered up mirrors, and looks pleased with the result. She was nearly as tall as Erik, and his clothes fitted her all right. The mask didn't though. She had to stick it to her face with sticky tape, then took it off and put on the Don Juan Zorro mask instead, because it stayed on easier, and it didn't make her look like a complete idiot.

* * *

Meanwhile, Erik had had the rudest awakening of his life. An annoying beeping sound had blurted out in the middle of a particularly nice dream where he was punjabbing Raoul while he wore a ballerina's tutu. He tried to find the source of it, but couldn't, so decided to ignore it and go back to sleep. But only self-trained teenagers can successfully ignore an alarm beep, and the de-de-de de-de-de was worming its way into his brain.

He sat up abruptly, swaying slightly as sleep left him and his day-to-day insanity took over. The most surprising thing about Erik in the morning was the odd angle his hair stuck up at. It plastered the side of his face or stuck straight up like some odd Russell Brand wannabe. The beeping had stopped. He decided to go back to sleep. O.G. wrapped the duvet snugly around himself and rolled over onto his side – and promptly fell out of the bed and onto a loose floorboard which clanged and woke up the whole house. Except Erik who slept on, oblivious.

Next came a knock on the door.

'Erik, get up, it's time for school,' Louise's mother said cheerily. Erik, used to getting up whenever he bloody-well felt like it, was not happy. He dressed simply in a white shirt (not frilly, but it would do), a pair of jeans given to him by Louise's dad, and Louise's leather coat. He liked this long coat – it reminded him of his precious cape.

'Erik, take that jacket off at the table,' Louise's mum chided.

'Sorry, he mumbled, shrugging off the totally cool leather coat. He hadn't actually put his mask on yet, since he usually did all his cosmetics after breakfast, but it meant that Louise's two siblings were staring at him and missing their mouths with spoons laden with breakfast cereals. Erik dwarfed the table as he meekly asked Louise's little sister to pass the cornflakes.

Grace was waiting anxiously at school. She hadn't been able to convince Louise that Erik would be perfectly safe with her Louise's argument was that she was protecting Erik from Grace.

At school, Erik got loads of attention. After all, how often did an insane musical genius from Paris with a porcelain mask over his face arrive as an exchange student? Everyone wanted to meet him, and all the sluts in the school wanted to go out with him. Poor Erik just wanted to hide in a corner somewhere.

His first lesson was music. Louise didn't do music because she couldn't sing or play or anything, but he had a mediocre talent, according to the music teacher. On the keyboard, an instrument that he had never seen before, he had great fun trying out the different sounds. When he complained to the teacher that they didn't have any organs, she scowled at him and told him to stop messing about. Erik glared at her in such a way that anyone who has read or seen Phantom would have backed off quickly with their hands at the level of their eyes.

But dear O.G. underestimated the power of teachers. She confiscated his Punjab. Grace managed to stop him calling her a 'Christine of no talent', because, living alone in the opera house, he had no bigger insult than that. Thankfully, the teacher had no idea what he was talking about. Grace absent-mindedly wondered whether Louise was having a better day.

* * *

Louise had been written another list. First she had to go shopping, because Erik had been considerate enough to leave nothing in the larder. She rolled her eyes at Erik's order to only shop at 'Le Marks and Spencer'.

Being O.G. was very overrated. Louise played on his playstation for a good part of the morning, until the authoress suddenly decided that 19th century France did not have PS2s and took it off her. Bored with moping around in a very Erik-ish fashion, she decided to go and scare some of the scene shifters.

She snuck up behind somebody the others called Joe. But she wasn't very good at sneaking yet. Her foot snagged on a creaking floorboard and Joe turned round. He tripped in his haste to get away and his head remarkably slipped into a conveniently placed noose and he fell over the side of the walkway at didn't move again.

'Oops,' Louise mumbled, quickly glancing left and right to see if anyone had noticed the scene shifter hanging between two familiar looking scenes. So that was how Joseph Buchet really died. Hmm. She shuffled away, trying to look inconspicuous in a big black cape and a totally cool porcelain mask.

* * *

Back in 2008, Erik was having lunch. Or rather, Grace was trying to get him to eat lunch. Erik didn't like the school dinners.

'Oh, come on, it's only for a week,' Grace urged, waving a piece of boiled potato in front of his nose. Erik glared at the vegetable with contempt and wrinkled his nose in such a way that Grace had to fight not to giggle.

'It might only be a week to you, Grace, but time is irrelevant. There is no way I am eating that.'

'Aww, go on,' Grace said.

'Will it make you stop waving it in front of my face?' Erik asked, eyeing the phangirl suspiciously.

'Yes.'

'Tough.'

The fork clattered onto the plate with a clang as Grace lost her patience. 'No wonder you're like a skeleton, you don't eat anything!' she cried.

Erik rolled his eyes. 'Christine is meant to be melodramatic, not you,' he huffed, folding his arms across his chest. Grace scowled at him; this was going to be harder than she first thought.

* * *

Louise had lunch in the Phantom's lair. Well, it was more like brunch really – croissants, butter, jam and hot chocolate while rereading Gaston Leroux's novel. She then got bored of that and wandered over to the organ, where Don Juan Triumphant was sitting tantalisingly on the top. However, one look at the complicated sets of notes and strange little marks that might have been sharps or flats or something, and she decided to explore the lair instead.

She pulled away the curtain blocking the life-size Christine doll, and got a sudden urge to set it on fire. It was kinda creepy. But that would make Erik kinda mad, and she didn't think she could face the real O.G., even if she did have the outfit. She went to lurk upstairs for an hour or two, careful not to kill any more workers.

'YOU DID WHAT!!!!!!?' Louise hollered at Erik when they met at the end of the day to see how well they had survived.

'I almost punjabbed that talentless woman you call a music teacher,' Erik sniffed.

'Just because you're better than her doesn't mean you have to kill her,' Louise explained slowly.

'She said I had no talent!' the French exchange student whined.

'Well, that's another matter,' Louise cried. 'Someone needs a hug.'

She pulled him into a great big bear hug as he started sniffling, leaving Grace standing in the corner looking daggers at her friend. Louise smirked from behind Erik's back.

'What about you, what did you do?' Grace asked finally, as much to break them up as anything else.

'I, err, killed a stagehand called Joe,' she admitted. Grace looked horrified; Erik looked stunned.

'That was very wrong of you, Louise,' he chided. She raised an eyebrow. 'Of course,' he continued, 'he's been snooping around for months, so you've done me a favour.'

'Oh, well that's all right then.'

But Erik had already wandered over to his precious organ, and was running a finger along it like an inspector looking for a particularly fine layer of dust.

'What's this?' he hissed. Oops, Louise had still been eating a croissant when she tried to figure out Don Juan.

'umm,' she began. Erik flexed his rope and was chasing her round the lair for the next half an hour, with Grace curled up on the floor, laughing her head off.


	5. Day 2

It was official. The world hated Erik. Not only had he been born disfigured, been forced to live underground, had his protégé run off with a Fop, had his lair invaded by phangirls, and been forced to go to their school, but on top of all that, had a cold. One of those ones with runny nose and weeping eyes. It sucked, to put it plainly. He swore he'd Punjab the person who gave him this dratted disease.

Grace was waiting for him as she had been the day before, and crooned and petted him when he sneezed. Erik had a very cute sneeze.

Today's first lesson was English, and the teacher told him off when she found score sheets containing the latest notes for Don Juan hidden under the notes on war poetry he had borrowed from Louise. He would have punjabbed her for her insolence at crushing his misunderstood musical genius, but the music teacher had confiscated his rope yesterday. He just sat and sulked, his scowl making Grace swoon, which earned her strange looks from her classmates.

Louise meanwhile was having a great time, and she hadn't even got out of bed yet. She quietly contemplated her position while trying to work up the energy to actually move. _I am in Erik's lair, in his totally cool swan bed, on a school day at 10am, with no need to get up and do anything,_ she thought happily, loving how envious Grace should be.

However, there were things to do. There was an opera tonight and Christine was going to be the star of the show, so she had to find Erik's secret stash of red roses, get one and tie a black ribbon round it, trek all the way up to the floor of the opera house, and place it in Christine's dressing room. All that for one understudy who wasn't smart enough to see what an idiot the Fop de Chagny was. Ah well, it was either that or be murdered by the real O.G. so, Louise put on the suit that Erik usually wore and headed upstairs.

Christine's dressing room was full of pink roses, love hearts, and valentine's cards from Raoul. Louise shuddered away from them with revulsion. How could she stand a guy who wrote with pink biro? Anyway, back to the task in hand. She scouted round the room for the most prominent place to put the rose. And would you know, just at that moment, Christine walked in. She screamed. Louise swore. Christine screamed a bit more, because she had an audition for King Kong later, and wanted to be in the mood for it.

'Ssh!' Louise hissed. 'Shut up!'

The soprano looked shocked. 'But you're a girl!' she cried. 'Are you my angel of music?' O.G. for the week rolled her eyes.

'No, I'm not your angel, he's on holiday for a week – not that school is that much of a vacation - but I am a girl. Well spotted.' She stood impassively before the understudy, trying to look sinister. If it came to it, she could always swish her cloak and vanish.

'I should tell.' Christine said dutifully.

'You wouldn't dare,' Louise shot back, totally un-Erik-ish. 'Look, I came here to give you this rose on behalf of Erik, who loves you more than life. A lot of people in the world would love to be you.'

'Really?' She seemed pleased with the 'want to be you' part. Louise couldn't refrain from rolling her eyes again. 'But Erik is so, like, scary and evil. Raoul is, like, so much nicer and prettier than he is.'

'Cha, but I don't see many online forums for Le Fop de Chagny,' Louise retorted. Christine looked puzzled about the online forums bit, but seemed to realise this Phantom was dissing her fiancé. She blew her petite frame up to rant, but Louise got there first. 'Look, just, hear me out,' she suggested. 'I have something you should see.' And Louise led Christine down a tunnel to the Phantom's lair to dramatic chords mixed with 80's electric guitar.

Meanwhile, back on the surface, Erik still wasn't eating any lunch.

'Erik, eat it.' Grace ordered. 'I've gone through all the hassle of actually putting the damn food on the fork for you, so you could at least take it off for me.' But Erik turned his nose up at it like a stubborn kid.

'Shan't' he said.

'Do you have any idea how utterly childish you are being?' Grace fumed.

'I –' Grace took her chance and stuffed the measly bit of spaghetti into his mouth as he was about to speak. Erik choked, then chewed, then choked a bit more, until he had recovered. 'That was disgusting,' he moaned.

'We have to live with that every day.'

'I'm not eating another bite,' Erik cried obstinately.

'If I have to hold your nose and force each bite down your throat, I will,' Grace threatened. Erik decided she meant it, so submitted and ate his jellified spaghetti with mutinous mumblings of Punjab lassos and torture chambers. The phangirl quite rightly rolled her eyes and ignored him.

When the movie was over, Christine was crying. Louise had found a box of Kleenex in one of Erik's draws and handed them to her. Some people may at this point be wondering exactly how they watched a 2004 musical in 1870, but the great thing about suspension of disbelief (my English teacher would be so proud of me) is that Louise was able to bring her laptop.

'That was so beautiful,' Christine mumbled. 'Sure, he was no Pianji, but the emotion in his voice was just so –' she sniffled a bit.

'What do you think of Raoul now then?' Louise asked, shutting off the laptop.

'My Raoul is far more a man than him,' Christine said indignantly.

Louise rolled her eyes. 'Christine, no matter who plays Raoul, he is always a Fop.' She then went on to explain what a fop was, because nobody outside Phandom knew what one was. Which makes it really irritating when you have to explain it to siblings or friends or total strangers. Christine didn't get it until the third attempt at explanation, and then wondered what Louise was doing as O.G. that took five attempts.

'So you and Erik have swapped places for a week?' Christine said finally said.

'Yes,' Louise replied.

'And –'

'WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!!???' Erik roared from the entrance to his lair. Louise had forgotten the time, school had been over for almost three hours. She had to dive in front of Christine not because of the Phantom, but because of Grace, who didn't like Christine. And that was putting it mildly. She was always sour about the soprano turning down such a cool guy as Erik.

'It's not worth it,' Louise grunted as she gripped her friend round the middle. 'Erik! Help me!' Christine was cowering in a corner and Erik was laughing his head off at the two phangirls.

Grace had gone crazy, and was struggling like her life depended on it. She accidentally whacked Louise on the jaw and escaped. She was halfway to Christine when Erik absent-mindedly stuck his foot out and tripped her up.

'That's for the spaghetti,' he stated. Louise meanwhile was clutching her chin.

'Ow!' she growled, glaring at her fellow phangirl. Grace looked immediately worried. Louise was the star tackler on the school girls' rugby team. And she had been practicing with the Punjab.

'Now, now, do you really want to kill me, Louise?' Grace tried to reason. 'Think of the logistics. Think of the paperwork.' Louise's eyes narrowed.

Erik thought he should interject. 'No murdering in my lair! I don't want blood on my Don Juan.' Both phangirls rolled their eyes in incredulity.

* * *

So, yeah, that's day 2, hoped ya liked it. Grace has been going on at me since the last chapter for me to get this finished. Review please!

Shadowxwolf


	6. Day 3

Day three folks! Erik's week of miery is practicall half over! Or is it? If Grace gets her way, no, it isn't, but Erik has just found out about this little phic and...well...he's not happy.

Erik: darn straight

Me: since when did you talk like that?

Erik: ...

Me: right...

Erik: I forbid you to post that Louise

Me: tough, I'm doing it.

Erik: No. I forbid it

Me: I'm reaching for the button - I'm going to press it...

Erik: NO!

Me: too late OG. Enjoy folks!

Erik: since when did you start calling people 'folks'

Me: ...

* * *

There were two lessons on the timetable that Erik wasn't going to like. But we'll come to that later. Meanwhile, Louise had a fop to kill. Christine had simply refused to acknowledge the total coolness of Erik over le Fop de Chagny, and so the phangirl had to take matters into her own hands. A simple loosening of carriage wheels should do the trick – a nice little traffic accident to knock his block clean off. Louise was looking forward to it. But the vicompte never missed out on his beauty sleep, so she could afford a few more minutes in bed. The lovely swan bed with red silk sheets that Erik usually slept in. That she was sleeping in and Grace wasn't. The thought made her very happy indeed.

Erik woke up with hair sticking up in every direction. He didn't have a good feeling about today. It had been a nice dream though. Had had taken the wheel bolts out of Raoul's carriage and the vicompte had had a nasty collision with a bollard. You know what they say about great minds? Maybe it's just that Erik and Louise have a similar fondness for psychopathic tendencies. Anyway, after breakfast Erik went to school. He decided to read on the bus, because Louise was a book fanatic and had almost 200 (and the number was growing rapidly) books on her shelves. The one he had chosen looked interesting. It had a mask on it. And a rose. And a girl called Christine as the main character. Unfortunately, reading meant Erik wasn't paying attention to the journey, and he missed his stop and had to run back to the school. And reading on the bus made him discover he suffered from motion sickness, which wasn't really the greatest feeling in the world.

The first lesson was PE. That term, Louise and Grace's class played rugby. Erik, who had never played a game of rugby in his life, owing to the fact that rugby hadn't really been invented yet in 19th century France, found rolling around in the mud to be the least fun he had ever had.

'Where's the pleasure in being unclean?' he asked Grace. 'And it's so brutish, all that ''tackling''. Erik had been enjoying himself p to the point when somebody had passed him the ball and about five people had smashed into him at once. He was now cradling a nosebleed.

'You get used to it,' Grace replied. She often had bruises from rugby, often from Louise. 'Anyway, I'd have thought you'd like rugby – you know, the chance for violence and chaos.'

'The chaos I cause,' Erik sniffed with some difficulty, 'does not involve rolling around in the dirt like some animal.'

'Oh, stop being so prissy,' Grace snapped, handing him another tissue.

After break came a lesson that made all (or most, because Grace wasn't that kind of girl) of the girls giggle, and all of the boys (apart from Erik, who had no idea what was going on) shrink into a corner. Yes, it was the dreaded sex-ed.

'What's the matter, Grace?' Erik was very scared. He actually cared about her answer.

'I hate this lesson,' she grumbled, her head in a book. Erik thought that was a good idea, since a lot of the female proportion of the class were looking covertly at him and giggling. So he started reading the book with the mask and the rose on it again. Did I mention that the book was in English and Erik can't read English? For a criminal mastermind, he really isn't that smart sometimes. The only words her could understand were 'Christine', 'Opera' and 'Faust'. And 'Raoul must die – stupid FOP' which Louise had once written on the inside cover when feeling particularly hateful towards the vicompte.

The teacher came in. 'Settle down settle down!' she ordered. There were things in the carrier bag she was holding. Things that looked horribly like. . .penises. Erik's head sunk further behind Louise's book. Grace hid behind Erik.

'Today we will be learning how to use contraceptives,' the teacher said shamelessly. Erik wondered absent-mindedly how much the teachers must get paid to teach this subject, and crossed 'teacher' off his list of career choices.

'Erik – have you done any of this before?'

Why did he have to be singled out? Oh yeah, because he was an 'exchange student'. The girls giggled again as O.G. turned brick red about the ears.

Speaking of red, Louise had only just woken up. She could get used to this life – getting up whenever she wanted, eating croissants and jam for breakfast, scaring opera-goers witless. Oh yes, this was a very cool job. Maybe when Erik came back she would go and haunt an opera house in London somewhere. Or New York. New York was nice. Or maybe she would just go and Punjab ALW for proposing a rubbish sequel to Phantom – that was appealing too.

She looked up at her to-do list: Kill FOP, harass managers, stalk Christine, sabotage Carlotta's career, feed the cat, wash dishes, send threatening letters.

'I might make nachos for dinner,' she said absent-mindedly to the lair. Then the authoress took nacho making privileges off O.G. –For-A-Week because they hadn't been invented yet. 'Damnit.'

So, onto the first job of the day – ensuring Raoul's discontinuation of mundane existence. He was still asleep, because he was a lazy (censored), so all Louise had to do was knock out the stableboy – who wasn't a boy, weighing over 300 pounds and who certainly wasn't stable – she hadn't really knocked him out, more pushed him slightly as he wobbled on the spot. She took a knife and unscrewed the carriage hubcaps, loosening the wheel bolts and grinning maliciously as she did so.

Raoul was coming. She hid in one of the stables and watched as le Fop came and stood in the carriage to drive the horses to Christine's house. When the horses moved, he fell over, because he had no balance whatsoever. Louise rolled her eyes. She could have stabbed him and made it look like an accident.

Erik meanwhile was sitting outside the head's office. He had refused to take part in the Sex-Ed lesson because (and I quote) 'this vulgar exercise hardly seems viable to have on the timetable, especially since half of our number already seem to know more than the under qualified, unsophisticated, uncultured bore that is meant to be teaching the class. And she can't sing.' So he was sent straight to the head teacher.

'Just say it's against your religion, and trying to make you do it is repressional and racist behaviour,' Grace whispered.

'I don't have a religion.'

'Pretend you do.'

'Why?'

'Because otherwise you'll get detention.' Erik, of course, didn't know what detention was, so he just nodded and tried to look profound. As for Grace, she wasn't really up to lying/cheating/worming her way out of trouble – that was Louise's department, she had perfected her technique over a long career. 'Listen, just do it.'

'Does it work?'

'It's what Louise says when she doesn't hand in homework – well, that and "it's on my memory stick", but I doubt that'll help here.'

'Great.'

So, Erik did as Grace told him.

'Mmhmm, and what religion might that be?' the headmaster asked from across his walnut desk. Erik couldn't help but think his desk was better. And worth more.

'Pardon?'

'What's your religion?'

Erik floundered. 'It's a secret,' he blurted. The headmaster looked unimpressed. 'I mean, err, it's a secret that I belong to this religion, because it's illegal in my home country. Umm, we're called the, umm –' he glanced desperately around the room for inspiration '- Teacupretain Church of Clockian worship. It's very obscure, and, err, very old, dating back to the 3rd century B.C. It was mainly wiped out in the Crusades. Tragic.' Erik tried to look profound again, but it didn't work.

Louise was

Having a far better time. There was going to be a masquerade that evening, and she was deciding what to wear. Of course, Red Death was the natural choice, but that was so post-chandelier-depression. She absent-mindedly wondered if she could get away with going as Vampire Hunter D. The longsword might be a bit hard to come by, and the totally cool shoulder spikes he wore. The cyborg horse might be a bit difficult too. No, not D then. Oh, decisions, decisions. Red Death would be easier, but Mr. Blobby would be far more frightening.

There were voices upstairs. Relieved voices. This wasn't right. News of Raoul's sudden, violent tragic (yeah right) and hopefully gory death should be flooding in around about now, and everyone should be distraught at losing all that precious de Chagny money. And one of those voices definitely belonged to Raoul. No other guy could be that indistinguishable from a girl. He had survived! And no doubt he would try and make out with Christine! Red Death it was then, because Le Fop de Chagny had to be stopped!

Everyone was dancing in pretty, swirling patterns when Louise arrived in the shadows. Such pretty colours, such sparkly shiny things. . . um, yes, well, Louise was admiring the crème de la crème of Paris while being totally hypnotised by the pretty colours.

In the meantime, Christine was sidling up to Raoul, who was dressed as Mr. Blobby for some odd reason (Mr. Blobby may not have been invented yet, but the image was good, so the authoress ran with it).

'Raoul?' Christine asked, bemused. She was dressed as Dorothy. I know, WTF right?

'Yes shnookums?'

'I told you not to call me that or I'd dump you. I'm this close Raoul.' She held her finger and thumb pressed together really tightly, and Raoul leaned in to see if he could see the gap. Idiot. 'What are you doing in that outfit, by the way?'

'I don't know – one minute I was the Cowardly Lion, the next I was dressed in this.' They both pondered for a moment.

'Raoul, are you pondering what I'm pondering?'

'I think so Christine, but how could I get Meg into bed anyway? She hates my guts.' She's not the only one.

It was at this moment that Louise decided to make a grand entrance. She appeared at the top of the stairs.

'Do not touch me! For I am Red Death stalking abroad!' she roared. Those might not have been Leroux's exact words, but she had always wanted to say those lines. Everybody had stopped what they were doing. Carlotta was choking on punch and nobody seemed to notice. Mr Blobby gave a frightened 'BLOBBY' and ran away. Huh, that had been easy.

Later, when Erik and Louise met up at a really fantastic café in York called Betty's that is not being advertised here although they do do smashing cakes – which Grace had dragged them both to by the way – they told each other what had happened during their day.

'YOU WHAT!?' Louise roared on finding out Erik had had Coco Shreddies for breakfast. 'Have you any idea how many calories are in those things?' She had taken the news about his detention really well, because she approved of his opinion of the teacher.

Erik was seriously weirded out by the whole his dream of killing Foppety McFopfop and Louise's idea of doing the same. He wasn't used to people having the same genius as him. Louise couldn't be bothered either way, because her fantastically brilliant and failsafe plan had actually fallen short of actually killing Raoul, or of harming him in any other way. It annoyed her.

One thing was for sure, she was definitely taking to life as O.G. more than was necessary.

* * *

Sorry about that little tiff at the beginning, you can tell I'm tired. well...review please!

Shadowxwolf


	7. Day 4

There, are you happy now Grace? This is Day 4, and I'm actually runnout of ideas, which is really annoying. Audience participation at this point would be welcomed with open arms XD. R&R!

* * *

Nothing really happened at school that day. Well, Erik lost his temper with his locker when it refused to open and somehow managed to end up on his back with it on top of him. Grace had laughed until he threatened to Punjab her, then she laughed harder.

'How can you Punjab me from under there?' she quizzed. Erik tried and failed to think of a retort, so decided to lie there and pretend he was the only person in the world, the circulation to his legs slowly being cut off by the weight of the locker. 'Umm, Erik?' Grace said tentatively, 'you're going purple.'

Louise was having a similarly trying day. First the waffle iron wouldn't work, because the authoress deemed it too technologically advanced and banned it, then she had to spear toast onto the fire poker and cook it that way. It didn't really work because one side was made into charcoal, and the other side couldn't be bothered to cook at all. So bread slice number one went in the fire. As did slice numbers 2-17 (bearing in mind Louise had to cut all these slices herself and now knew why people said 'best thing since sliced bread', because it was bloody hard).

Eventually, she gave up on breakfast, and donning the most evil outfit in the lair, set off on her daily task: the capture/kidnap of the girl masquerading as a vicompte. Unfortunately, she was never really going to succeed in this, because the authoress, in her infinite wisdom and story-writing skills, had realised long ago that every good story needs an antagonist. So Raoul stayed, protected by the authoress' (reluctant) plotlines.

Louise was still quite sneaky though. She couldn't decide whether to lop off his head while he was riding by standing up in that horridly decorated carriage of his, or to find a large rabid dog and set it on him. Well, maybe not rabid, Louise had an aversion to cruelty to animals.

The first plan didn't work, because Fop-a-doodle-doo suddenly spotted a half eaten burrito in the bottom of the carriage and bent down so the wire just shaved off the top of his hair. He looked marginally cooler with a mullet.

The second plan didn't work because the dog saw a guy dressed up as a cat singing 'Rum Tum Tugger', and, becoming very confused, chased him instead.

'Damn ALW characters,' Louise muttered furiously. The fop was still alive.

Erik was trying to watch CSI. It was quite a good episode, but there were things the killer did that made it so easy to discover 'whodunnit'. Louise's family had stopped watching the show with him because he liked to point out the killer's mistakes to the screen, and said things like 'I would have used something less unique', or, 'I would have noticed the patch of blood and cleaned it up – these people have no experience'. To be honest it quite scared Louise's parents.

Anyway, Louise's dad decided he wanted to go out. Rock-climbing of all things. Erik looked like a strong young man, and could hold the rope, or whatever.

'Hey, Erik, want to come bouldering with me?' he asked.

Since Erik had no idea what bouldering was, he readily agreed. He regretted his decision the instant he saw the indoor climbing walls.

'Oh bugger,' he muttered.

Five minutes later, reluctantly kitted out with a harness, climbing shoes, and really sketchy instructions, Erik face the bouldering wall. Louise's dad was already scrambling up, wearing leggings that didn't fit properly.

'I don't do physical exertion,' Erik called up to him. 'It's so sweaty and smelly, and exerting. It's the sort of thing vicomptes do. And I didn't need to see that,' he added, as Louise's dad's leggings slipped down ever so slightly. He looked round at the larger walls with slight apprehension. At least there were plenty ropes and high beams from which to push people off around here.

'Go on, mate, your turn,' Louise's dad said, clapping him solidly on the back. Erik shuffled away from the touch.

'Do that to me once more,' he threatened quietly. 'I'm not going to do it.'

'Go on'

'No'

'Aw, go on.'

'Fine then!' If there was one thing Erik couldn't stand, it was whiners, especially when they were 6'5'' ex-army whiners. He knew when to give up. He strapped the harness on and the rope, and started to climb the ten metre wall.

Handholds were difficult to find, and Erik really didn't like the feeling of being really high up with only a flimsy and harness to prevent him crashing to his death.

'Just shout up when you wanna come down,' shouted Louise's dad.

'Pardon?' Erik shouted back, looking down. He froze, and clutched the wall tighter. His heart rate and breathing increased. He was hyperventilating. O.G. was scared of heights!

Louise had given up on trying to kill Dr. Fopkenstein for today, so instead she was hanging around the manager's office, trying to scare them witless. It was working really well. And to think, all she had had to do was cut a few holes in one of Madam Giry's bed sheets and go 'boo'.

'Hang on a second,' André gasped as they were running through the hall. 'Those were madam Giry's bed sheets with someone going 'boo' underneath them!' His fellow manager was enraged.

'Who would do such a thing?' he asked melodramatically. 'Hang on – how do you know what madam Giry's bed sheets look like?'

'I – erm. . .' André couldn't think of an excuse, so he changed the subject and hurtled into the office. The bed sheet and the person underneath it were nowhere to be found. Suddenly a disembodied voice laughed at them and the chuckling echoed ominously. The managers lunged for their comfort blankets. O.G. for a week was appalled.

'I am appalled,' she said. Luckily the echoes and the walls disguised the fact that she was female. 'You have not paid me my salary.'

'Yes we did!' André retorted through sucking his thumb. 'We paid you two weeks ago!'

'You did not! You cannot fool the Opera Ghost!' Louise played the dramatic chords, track 5, and the managers trembled. 'I expect my money by the end of this week, plus interest at 13.5 APR, plus VAT.'

'What the hell is VAT?' the managers asked, bewildered.

Erik and Grace were waiting for Louise when she reappeared in the lair, giggling furiously.

'Oh, hey guys,' she said, taking off Erik's cape with a flourish. Grace was looking really smug. Erik was looking grumpy. This was going to be good. 'What's happened today?' So they told her – well, Grace did; Erik sulked.

'You did WHAT?' Louise cried half an hour later. 'How did you get a locker to fall on you? And why would you agree to go climbing with my dad?'

'He said he was going _bouldering_. What's the difference?

'Bouldering is climbing boulders, without ropes. Climbing involves ropes and cliffs,' Louise explained.

'Right. . .what did you do today?' Erik asked, as much to change the subject as anything else. Louise was trying too hard not to laugh. So Louise told them.

Grace was really annoyed. How could she have failed to kill Raoul again?

'Hey!' Louise protested. 'It's not that easy! It's like there's some divine power that wants him kept alive. I will never again question your murdering skills, Erik.'

'You've questioned my murdering skills?'

'Just once,' Louise said uneasily, very well aware that the real O.G. was advancing on her in a menacing fashion.

'More than once Erik,' Grace informed him.

'You liar!' Louise cried. 'Erik, it's not true, I swear,' Louise cautioned. 'Erik, don't do anything you'll regret. Erik!'

O.G., annoyed at Louise's lack of faith in him, chased her round and round his organ, shouting blasphemous curses about punjabbing her.

'Language!' Louise shouted, skirting around another stack of music sheets. How many did he have? As usual, Grace was rolling on the floor laughing her head off.

* * *

If there are any gramatical errors please point them out, cos they're annoying 


	8. Day 5

Are you happy now Angel's grace? woot, we're going to Londinium tomorrow! Anywho...yeah...this is the next chapter. Enjoy!

Why couldn't Raoul just _die_? Louise had been trying all week to kill off the fop, and he had resolutely refused to bite the dust. Maybe his stupidity rivalled Louise's Erik-like brilliance; after all, it was difficult to even have a proper conversation with someone with an IQ difference of thirty to you, maybe it granted immunity from ingenious evil schemes as well.

Louise sighed. Maybe he would die of horror if she mix-and-matched the pink drapes in his room with ones with Spongebob Squarepants on them. It would be amusing in any case. Maybe she should hang the Barbie he'd christened 'Christine' (she rolled her eyes at his originality) out of the window, or draw death threats all over his My Little Pony collection. These last two were really good ideas, but the authoress then reminded O.G. for a week that neither My Little Pony or Barbie had been invented yet, and nor, indeed, had plastic. So Louise was stuck without ideas to kill Lord Foppermort, and decided to have a break. Teaching herself ho to play the organ. Erik's organ. She was so dead.

Erik, meanwhile, was having a serious problem of his own. It had to do with phangirls. Or rather, a very specific phangirl named Grace. In retrospect, he thought he should have heeded Louise's warning about not going to Grace's house for dinner, but retrospect doesn't really do anyone much good. Her room was just, so. . .fluffy! Not pink, but fluffy and full of wind chimes and charms and clutter and posters of some guy in a mask stuck to the ceiling, and – wait? Some guy in a mask? Some guy in a mask with a red rose with a black ribbon and the words 'Phantom of the Opera' written along the bottom? Was that _him_? That was when Erik first became scared.

He then became more scared when he saw a picture of himself (as portrayed by someone very good-looking) directly above Grace's bed, sellotaped to the ceiling. So this was what phangirls spent their money on. He started backing out of the room slowly.

'Hiya!' Grace bubbled from the doorway. 'Do you like my decorations?'

'Yeah, sure, great,' he mumbled, his hand itching reflexively for a Punjab that wasn't there. Louise had confiscated it from him after he had tried to strangle her Labrador for jumping up at him. Nobody tried to strangle Louise's Labrador and got away with it. She had been livid, and Erik didn't want to repeat that experience.

'My mum's made tea if you want to come down,' Grace said.

'Let's go then.' Anything to get away from that room. He followed her downstairs, cautious of Grace's little brother, who seemed too like him a bit too much for it to be normal. He wouldn't stop staring and it was making Erik uncomfortable.

'Tell him to stop staring at me,' he told Grace.

'Why don't you?' she answered.

'Because small children scare me,' O.G. admitted. Grace looked shocked. Erik was actually scared of something other than butterflies? 'And because if I talk to children they usually run away.'

'Isn't that what you want?'

'I just want him to stop staring.'

Grace sighed. 'Fine.' She marched over to her little brother and snapped at him to beat it. The kid ran down the hall, screaming, and Grace just rolled her eyes.

Louise meanwhile was very bored indeed. She was quickly tiring of operas, since they gave her a headache. She wondered absent-mindedly if she could give them the CD of 'We Will Rock You' and get them to make a production out of that. It would be amusing. But then, since Louise was actually an avid fan of Doctor Who and Torchwood, she knew how bad it would be to mess up the timelines and give a thoroughly good show to the wrong country decades before it was actually thought of. That sort of thing could screw with your mind – besides, it wasn't as if there was a CD player 

anywhere in 19th century Paris. Suddenly, she thought of a most brilliant way to get Christine to split up with Raoul. So she hurried off to fulfil it.

'Pssst! Christine!' she hissed from the wings. The young ingénue looked round with a wide eyed look of pretty innocence, and Louise couldn't help but roll her eyes. She had heard all the dirty jokes Christine told the chorus girls.

'Oh,' she tittered. 'It's you.'

'Yes, it's me. Listen, I just heard something you should know about your boyfriend. He's been seeing Sorelli behind your back.'

'He's what?' Christine screeched. 'I don't believe you!' Louise thought it was kind of contradictory that she had just burst into tears at the thought of it.

'If you don't believe me, follow him and see for yourself,' Louise replied, before disappearing in a very menacing and mysterious way with a swish of her cloak. Now for step two.

Erik was having a hard time. When you live by yourself in an underground lair, table manners aren't something you worry too much about. But Grace's parents obviously did.

No elbows on the table. Tip the soup bowl towards you so you don't spill over everyone else. Cover your food with your hand when you blow in it to cool it down. Only use your fork as a shovel when you aren't holding your knife. Don't chew with your mouth open. All of these were a fraction of the table rules O.G. had to contend with, and for someone who had lived by the rules 'No eating at the organ' and 'Food goes in mouth and chew', it was very difficult to remember them all. Eventually, after almost spilling his dinner all over the pristine tablecloth, Erik decided to revert to the manners used at Louise's house – it was still quite formal, but less pernickety. Erik liked that word. It was a good word.

Louise dispensed with the ghosty noises before reaching Sorelli's dressing room. All she had to do was convince her to kiss Harry Fopter where Christine could see, and her plan would work like a charm. It wasn't a secret that Sorelli didn't like Christine, so Louise bribed the soprano with fame and fortune. She agreed, and Louise went to make popcorn in time for the fireworks.

Christine was indeed following her beloved boyfriend. She watched as he walked nonchalantly down a corridor, happy as Larry, when Sorelli suddenly launched herself out of the shadows and wrapped her arms (with a slight grimace, Louise noted) around le Fop de Chagny.

'Oh Raoul!' she squealed, kissing him (somewhat hesitantly, Louise thought) on the lips.

'Sorelli! What are you doing?' Fop asked incredulously.

'Oh, Raouly! We don't need to hide, Christine isn't here to watch us,' Sorelli teased seductively. Fop swallowed, wondering exactly what the singer was wearing under that flimsy dressing gown.

'I don't know –'

'RAOUL!' Christine screamed, diving from her hiding place. 'Why? WHY?' She could make a fortune as an actress, Louise thought dryly. The ingénue slapped him round the face and stormed off, doing a very good impression of Carlotta, screaming that it was over between them. She was heading for her dressing room, and so probably the secret passage to Erik's lair, so Louise had to leg it along several corridors and down six floors to get there before Christine. Unfortunately the nonchalant leaning against the organ trying out notes was ruined slightly by the fact Louise was still panting from the run.

'Are you all right?' Christine asked.

'What? Oh yeah. . .fine. How are you? You don't look so good.'

'It's Raoul,' Christine said, dropping onto the chaise-lounge. Louise came over with a notebook and a pen.



'Tell me what happened,' she asked in a caring tone.

'I saw him kissing Sorelli,' she sobbed. 'Just like you said!'

'And how do you feel about that?' Louise inquired kindly. By way of response Christine burst into tears. Louise handed her a tissue – not because she was being kind, but because Christine was crying very near to Erik's Don Juan papers, and she didn't think the real O.G. would like it if they were smudged, even by the tears of the love of his life.

'I hate to say I told you so,' Louise said. 'You know Erik would never do something like that to you.' Christine just sobbed harder. 'Maybe you should go back to your room and sleep this off,' Louise suggested, feeling just a little bit guilty – not much though. 'You'll feel better in the morning.'

O.G. for a week helped Christine back to her dressing room, and gave her a hot chocolate to help her sleep. When she got back, she saw Erik and Grace waiting for her. Erik wasn't looking very happy, and was that _trifle _in his hair. This was going to be a good story.

And by the end of this good story, she really did feel sorry for him, although she was rolling on the floor laughing. It turned out he had somehow managed to get tangled in the tablecloth and flip the trifle onto his head. It seemed O.G. was actually very clumsy.

So Louise told them about her day, and about how Christine was an inch or so closer to going out with Erik. The one thing she didn't expect to happen was the one thing that did. Erik squealed – yes, squealed – and ran forward and engulfed Louise in a bone crushing hug, planting a kiss on her cheek. When he set her back on her feet she was slightly wobbly, though whether that was from the fact that she was in shock, had just had all of the air squeezed from her lungs, or had just been kissed by the Phantom, she couldn't tell.


	9. Day 6

For Grace, who persistently annoys me by telling me I'm nice. Can I have my doughnut now?

* * *

Louise didn't think it was really worth getting out of bed. She had figured out the authoress's cunning plotline to keep Foppy McGee alive and well – well, alive at any rate – at least until the end of the story. She also realised that this meant there was no point in trying to relieve him of his corporeal shell as it were. Besides, there was only one more night for her to spend in Erik's giant and luxurious swan bed. Best make the most of it. She didn't have silk sheets at home. Or the peace and quiet afforded by living five floors underneath everyone else separated by rock walls and a lake and booby traps that would make the Egyptians proud.

Still, there was still the need to keep the story going. The authoress checked her watch. As an omnipotent being, she didn't really need a watch because she knew the time anyway. She was just doing it for dramatic effect. It was eleven o'clock and Louise still hadn't moved. The authoress took out a cattle prod and eyed the reluctant heroine with what looked startlingly like glee in her eyes. Needless to say, Louise quickly got up after that.

* * *

Erik, meanwhile, was reading. The size of Louise's mini-library had at first scared him slightly, books being incredibly expensive in nineteenth century France. Then he decided to browse the shelves a bit, because he was bored, and the only musical instrument in the house was a very old keyboard which Louise's father guarded like a pitbull. He had picked a book out at random and was now reading voraciously through it, paying far more attention to the adventures of the Bennet sisters than Louise had when she was forced to read it for school. But he tired of it after a while, deciding that Jane Austen didn't have the most masculine of male characters. When he complained of this to Grace, she nearly killed him. Nobody insulted Mr Darcy on her watch. Only divine intervention in the form of Louise's mother shouting that the dogs needed walking saved his life.

'And make it a nice long walk, they need the exercise,' Louise's mother added as the Labradors went nuts at the sight of leashes.

It was raining outside. Not just drizzling either, but full on, heavy rain. Erik was not pleased.

'My hair will get ruined,' he whined. Yes, Erik whined.

'Then put something on over that poet shirt,' Grace said with annoyance. But Erik, being the Phantom of the Opera, he had to look smart and suave at every minute of the day, and raincoats really didn't look good on him. He would have worn Louise's totally cool and billowy leather coat, but it was a woman's coat, and besides, Louise had threatened to pummel him if he touched it. He was inclined to take such threats seriously.

So it happened that Erik helped Grace take the dogs for a walk in a loose cotton poet shirt and his Don Juan trousers (they were actually his most comfortable pair). The Labradors were far too excited. Erik literally had to lean back to counter the force of their pulling. He was ruining his boots in all this mud too.

'We can let them run here,' Grace said when they reached a field. No sooner than he unclipped his dog that it disappeared as a black streak across the field.

* * *

Louise was having a hard time. She was suffering from fanfiction withdrawal, and could only imagine the pile of angry emails cramming her inbox with the number of stories she had to update. And then there was NaNoWriMo, writing a novel in a month was so much easier when you had a laptop to tell you your word count. The authoress liked to taunt Louise with this fact.

To alleviate her boredom, Louise decided to go to the opera. Faust, joy. She hadn't actually been to the opera since Erik had taken her a week before, and she hadn't even crashed a chandelier yet. Erik would be so disappointed in her!

So then, the customary red rose for Christine and she was off to box five. She was all set to sit and watch the show, with a box of Quality Street and hiding a book under the lip of the box, just in case Faust became too much, but then, horror of horrors, a voice that was more shrieking than anything came on to the stage. Louise rolled their eyes. Would they never learn?

Dog-earing her page in a resigned fashion, Louise climbed up to the dome of the theatre, where a conveniently placed CD player was waiting to plat the Phantom's dramatic chords.

The audience gasped.

'How many times do I have to tell you?' Louise thundered, the voice changer she had bought off Ebay making her sound totally creepy and awesome and Scottish. 'No toads are allowed onstage! And now, you have forced me to do something I really didn't want to do.' Well, maybe a little. She blew up the chandelier.

* * *

Grace was in heaven. Well, almost. She was trudging through brambles and mud in search of the dogs, because they had basically disappeared into the hedgerow. But the rain had stopped, and the sun was shining down on Erik. And it was wonderful. The rain had soaked him to the skin, plastering his hair over his head and making his poet shirt stick to him in a classic Darcy moment. His chest was surprisingly well sculptured, though Grace guessed it stemmed from all though years having to sneak through the rafters of the theatre. To be honest though she didn't really care about that, or the fact that she was staring. It was quite an understandable reaction really. And Louise would be _so_ jealous!

'Here, dogs!' Erik shouted half heartedly. As far as he was concerned, the wretched animals could stay lost.

Unfortunately, the dogs didn't share that sentiment. They streaked out of the grass, catching him off guard, and slammed into his legs because they were insane. Needless to say he fell over

* * *

'What the hell happened to you? Louise asked when Erik tramped into the lair looking dejected and grumbling. 'And don't trail mud over that floor, I've just cleaned it.'

'It's about time,' Erik moaned. Louise merely scowled. She had more important things to do than tidy the Phantom's lair.

'You still haven't answered my question,' she pointed out.

'Your bloody dogs knocked me over,' he complained.

'Oh, right. They do that.'

'Your mother made me and Grace take them out and it was raining and all I had on was a shirt and –'

'Backtrack slightly there Erik,' Louise interrupted. 'You went out in the rain in a shirt?'

'Yes. What the matter?'

'You still have a lot to learn about phangirls, Erik,' was the reply. 'GRACE!'

Grace, by this point, was trying to sneak out of the lair before her friend noticed. Louise shut the portcullis with a flare that impressed even the real O.G. The less insane of the friends gulped.

'Why was I not informed of this occurrence as soon as you entered my lair?' Louise asked in an ominous fashion.

'Hey!' Erik tried to protest. 'It's my –'

'You be quiet,' Louise snapped. 'Well?'

'Err, well, I err. . ' Grace bolted. With a growl Louise tore after her, shouting about how she hadn't even thought to take _pictures_ to show her. Erik just sat bewildered at his organ, unable to summon the energy he would need to separate the two phangirls, who were now trying to strangle each other.

* * *

Not my best, I have to say, but reviews are still welcome


	10. The Last Day

Last hapter! A special Christmas present for all who've stuck with me over my lack of updating. Shame on me! Merry Christmas!

* * *

For completely inexplicable reasons that involved the authoress abandoning her characters for a month while she tried to write a fifty thousand word novel, everything was now in chaos. Grace had somehow coerced Erik into going out with her, much to the chagrin of her parents and Louise. Speaking of Louise, she had taken the role of the Phantom slightly too far, becoming more Erik-esque than Erik had ever managed. Firmin had been found hanging with his cravat tied around his ankles at one end and around the walkway above the stage at the other, with a note in his pocket saying he would get much worse the next time he didn't pay on time. Things were getting out of hand.

However, since it was now Christmas, the authoress decided to be lenient with punishments. The holiday spirit was spread throughout the whole opera house, helped along no doubt by Sorelli's tipsy singing (she had found André's 'secret' stash of brandy beneath a loose floorboard in his office). One person who was not happy with the decorations was Louise. The festoons of holly and tinsel spread in the halls seriously impaired her ability to sneak about in the rafters, making her resort to actually walking on the floor next to all the mundane theatre people. Ppfftt. The main problem with walking in broad daylight is that it's much easier to feel like a pillock, and so she dispensed with the totally cool cape and half mask and went around wearing the poet shirt and trousers. It had quite a profound effect on the more good looking members of the production crews. She had already punjabbed all the ugly ones.

It was while she was walking down one of these back corridors that she ran into the one person she had been most anxious to kill.

Alice in Fopperland was quite unsteady, smelling of André's brandy, as he stopped abruptly in his rendering of 'Joy to the World', and spotted Louise, who was standing frozen in shock in the corridor. In reality she was trying really hard not to laugh, since seeing the Fop drunk was something rather funny to witness. The mirth abruptly stopped when he fell against her. Her eye twitched.

'Itss yoush!' he cried drunkenly. 'Yooou're like the Phantom aren't yoush?'

'Yes,' Louise said stiffly. Santa Fops had fallen against her punjabbing arm, and now she couldn't do anything substantial about the fact that she was bearing most of his inebriated weight.

'Yousshee, I wash shinging about him, but Cshristeeeeeen shaid she didn't want me to, and then. . .what wash I talking aboutsh?'

'What you sung wouldn't happen to be Joy to the World would it?' Louise asked dryly. If she could just reach that Punjab!

'Yessh!' he cried. 'You knows it!' Louise rolled her eyes. 'Cshristeeeen didn't want me to shing it, but I don't shee why I shouldn't – he triedsh to killsh mee!'

'Poor you,' Louise said sarcastically. She really couldn't blame Erik at that moment in time.

There was a snore. Fopman had fallen asleep on her! But only for a moment. When he woke up five seconds later he seemed marginally more sober, but his eyes were still unfocussed. When they did focus, what he said filled Louise with cold dread.

'Ish that mishteltoe?'

'Oh please dear god no,' the Phantom replied, already leaning away. There was a resounding thwump as Don Fop collided with first Louise's fist and then the wall. Well, he _was _asking for it, she reasoned to herself.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the twenty-first century, it was the last day of school. Grace was ready and waiting for Erik at the school gates, armed with a Santa hat and, yup, you guessed it, a sprig of mistletoe. It was plastic, but it was the symbolism that counted. The authoress had seriously deliberated over whether or not to allow this, but had decided that personal feelings could not be allowed to get in the way of the plotline. Much. Erik saw her and groaned.

'I am not wearing that _monstrosity_,' he said flatly.

'Yes you are.' And to prove her point, she rammed it on his head. He was not a happy bunny; the red felt and the white fur rim clashed with his carefully assembled black outfit. He was getting to rather like the swooning masses of the school, and that annoyed Grace more than slightly. 'Come on,' she said, rather brusquely, practically dragging him into the school.

'Grace?' Erik asked a while later.

'Yes dear?'

'What is this hat for?' Erik was puzzled by the Santa hat. He had seen a lot of students walking around with them today, and a few were even wearing hairbands with felt antlers sprouting from the top. Being from nineteenth century France the whole situation as rather confusing.

'It's a Santa hat,' Grace explained briefly, then wished she hadn't. Santa 'Claws' terrified the Opera Ghost far more than anything of the modern world he had seen so far. Except cars. He had an intense loathing for cars. 'Don't be silly Erik, Santa is for children; he gives them presents.'

'Presents?'

'Yes, presents – and don't go down that corridor.' She pulled him the opposite way.

'Why?' he asked.

'Because the year elevens are lurking there with mistletoe,' Grace almost growled. I say almost, because Grace isn't really the sort of person to growl – such thing were far better left to the more insane of the duo. Grace more. . .glowered.

'You have mistletoe,' Erik pointed out. Grace gave him a sly sidelong look. 'Why?' Being the opera ghost, he wasn't aware of such trivial human customs as kissing under mistletoe. Grace, being her sly self, handed the plastic sprig to him.

'Hold it above your head and I'll show you,' she said innocently. Grace was far from innocent. O.G. obediently did as he was told, not suspecting what was coming next. His cheeks (at least, the one that wasn't hideously sunburned) flushed bright crimson when Grace kissed him. He seemed to stop breathing and keeled over backwards. 'Wow, I didn't know I was that good,' Grace said, slightly bewildered.

* * *

Louise meanwhile, on a spur of Christmas charity, and prompted by the authoress' newly acquired cattle prod, was trying to bring F.O.P out of his drunken stupor. There was a very satisfying purple bruise growing around his eye, and though it should be enough to teach him a lesson about trying to kiss the Phantom of the Opera she kept the Punjab within grabbing distance.

'Ow, my head,' groaned Santa's Little Fopster.

'Serves you right,' Louise said laconically. The fop focussed on the sound.

'It's you!' he cried. Louise said nothing. 'Where am I?'

'Willy Wonka's chocolate factory,' she replied in a bored voice.

'Really?'

'No.' He showed a little too much excitement there. It was slightly worrying.

He seemed to be trying to figure something out, and then horror dawned on his face. 'I kissed you didn't I?'

'No, you tried, and then I knocked you unconscious.'

'Oh.'

Speaking of unconscious, Grace was now dragging Erik into the lair. For an emaciated phantom, he was rather heavy.

'A little help?' she pleaded.

'Jesus, Grace, what did you do to him?' Louise asked as she helped lift the real O.G. onto the organ bench. Grace seemed slightly reluctant to say, but Louise spotted the plastic mistletoe sticking out of a pocket. She groaned. 'What is it with everyone today?'

'What do you mean?'

'I've had Foppy McGee over there try the same thing – he was drunk though.' As soon as he had seen Erik, said Fop had hidden behind the huge eagle/swan shaped bed. The two phangirls rolled their eyes. At least he hadn't fainted.

'Do you think he'll be all right?' Louise asked, turning her attention once more to the real O.G.

'He's Erik, of course he will.'

The authoress for one was relieved when Erik actually woke up. After such a near miss though, she decided that it would be best for all involved if the two phangirls left him in peace. It would certainly be better for Louise's mental health.

'But I never got to Punjab the FOP,' she said dejectedly the next day in physics. The style of the Phantom had stuck. She sat at the front desk in a poet shirt and cape. It was a very thick cape and very warm.

'You could take it off, you know,' Grace said tentatively.

'No. I like it.'

Grace rolled her eyes.


End file.
